Tucker flipped the emergency lights on in his truck as he sped toward the fire. Every minute counted, and any information he could provide ahead of the fire truck arriving could save lives. The smoke was thick on this side of town, making visibility difficult already.
When he turned down Old Mill Road, it got worse.
4450 would be on the north side of the street.
He leaned in, heightened awareness pushing him to go faster. His heart raced as it always did under these circumstances, and at the same time he was praying there’d be no casualties. But lifesaving wasn’t a zero-sum game.
Tucker had a couple of hunting buddies who lived on this side of the mountain, both trained as volunteers. With any luck one of them would be on location when he got there.
The houses were far apart on this side of the mountain, which could be in their favor to contain the fire to one structure, but the weather was tricky tonight. Winds had been kicking up for the past two weeks, and a pattern of dry air had made them post an alert to the county about fire hazard. With so much dense forest in the area, if the wind didn’t cooperate, things could get out of hand fast.
“Aw, man.” He pulled off the road at the address, immediately recognizing the house Diane and Jack Jacob had been working on for nearly three years to fix the old place up. It had been in Jack’s family. His grandfather’s place. Empty and neglected for a generation, it was a huge undertaking.
Another truck was parked on the street. He hoped it was one of his volunteers.
Tucker jumped out of his truck and pulled on his gear, talking into his radio the whole time.
“Two-story fire fully developed on arrival. We’re going to need the following equipment: extra tankers, stagger arrival. Rescue immediately, foresters and ground crew for possible spread to natural areas.”
Flames from the back of the house licked the night sky. The Christmas tree still stood in the front window, every colored light twinkling in celebration of the holiday.
One of the volunteers came running from around the back of the house. “Chief! Jack Jacob is in the backyard trying to fight it with a garden hose. He said it started back there.”
“Cut the power, and get Jack out of there,” Tucker said. “Trucks are two minutes out. Clear the vehicles. Get ready for their arrival.”
“Yes, sir!”
Diane came running from the far side of the yard, young children in tow. “Tucker! It’s spreading so fast. What do I do?”
“Is everyone out of the house?”
She nodded. “Yes. The kids. Momma. Check on Jack!”
“Doggy!” the little girl at her side screamed.
“Family pet inside?” Tucker asked.
“I don’t know.” Tears streamed down her face, clearing soot in a path down her cheek. “Maybe? I thought I saw him out here.”
“Stay back.” Tucker had no sooner gotten the words out of his mouth than the fire truck swooped to a stop in front of the house. “Keep the children over by the picnic shelter. Don’t worry. I’ll get Jack. We’re here now.”
Diane swept her family up like little ducklings and rushed them out of the way.
Tucker radioed further instructions to his team, including having someone pick up the family and take them somewhere warm and out of view of their home ablaze.
Doris would handle that. She was a lifesaver that way.
Tucker radioed the latest update: “Everyone is accounted for, except possibly the family dog. Not sure if it was inside or out. Keep an eye out.”
Jack was putting up a fight, determined to save his home.
The oldest rig in Tucker’s fleet, the one with THE BULL MOUNTAIN BOYS across the windshield, rolled up.
“Pull the two-and-a-half-inch hose, Bull Mountain Boys.” It was the biggest hose they had on that truck, and they needed to squelch this fire before the wind kicked up again.
The team dropped from the truck and spread out to evaluate and begin taking control of the situation.
An update came over the radio that they were bringing Jack around for medical attention.
Tucker watched two suited-up firefighters supporting Jack between them. He was coughing and desperately trying to catch a breath, but in desperation, Jack pulled away, attempting to turn back to save his home.
EMTs raced to his side and checked his airway following exposure to the thick, dense smoke. Shortly thereafter, he was given oxygen while the rest of the team prepped him to be loaded in the ambulance.
Soot covered Jack from head to toe. He had to have taken in a lot of smoke. Running on adrenaline, he didn’t know how much danger he was in. These were dangers Tucker’s team was trained in.
It only took a moment for the EMTs to confirm his suspicions. “Possible thermal damage. Burns on his hands and neck. We’re taking him to Roanoke.”
Tucker jogged back around to the front to direct the other units that had come to help. That was one thing about being in a small county. All the neighboring counties were ready to back you up.
Hoses stretched from the tanker truck through the yard, and another tanker was on the way to wet down the surrounding areas. In these dry conditions, the last thing they needed was the mountainside to ignite.
It was a hot fire. The old wooden house was crumbling as fast as they could soak the flames.
Firefighters rotated in and out as they continued to try to drown the fiery embers.
Sheriff Brothers walked over. “What can we do?”
“Keep the roads clear. Two other counties are on the way for backup. It’s going to be a long night.”
“We’ve got it.” He turned on his heel and hopped back in his car, flipping his blue lights on and heading back down the mountain.
Tucker checked in with Doris and her team on the status of getting the family moved to the station if other arrangements hadn’t been made yet. Being here was too much for anyone to watch. Especially with the added stress of children and the holidays for the Jacobs, and Tucker couldn’t allow any distractions to put his people in danger.
He walked toward the family, still under the canopy of the picnic shelter, which was the first thing Jack had built. They’d parked an RV under it, and that’s where they had all lived for the first year as they began work on the old homestead.
Betty Jo, Diane’s mother, cried, grabbing his arm as he got closer. “How can we tell the children there won’t be Christmas?”
The EMTs rolled a weary Jack Jacob to the ambulance, which made Betty Jo become even more emotional.
“They’re taking him to Roanoke for treatment. It’s precautionary,” he tried to reassure her. He’d thought he could instruct her to communicate to Diane, but Betty Jo was nearing hysteria. He moved past her. “It’s okay,” he said to Diane. “Jack took in a lot of smoke. It’s not something to mess around with, so we’re taking him to get checked out, but don’t worry, I don’t think he’s in any critical danger. We’ll be moving you to the fire station.”
“My keys are still inside. My purse. Everything.” She sucked in a breath. “I—”
“We’re going to take care of you. Just let us lead you through this, okay?” He spoke slowly, trying to comfort her. “I’ll keep you updated every step of the way. I promise.”
Over his shoulder, Tucker saw an SUV slide to a stop across the street.
Natalie hopped out of the driver’s side. His heart hitched when he saw Sheila come around from the other side, excited to see her, but this wasn’t the time. People meant well, but the last thing he needed was another person to watch over during an emergency.
Before he could address Natalie, Orene had joined her and Sheila.
The fire department van blocked his view of them as it pulled in front of the picnic shelter.
Doris got out carrying bottles of water. “We’ve got it from here, Chief.” She, along with a couple of her blue-helmetted volunteers, swept in to help the family. Doris flipped her hand as if to dismiss him. That always tickled him, the way she’d do that.
“Thank you.” Tucker checked back in with each of the teams. Gathering and imparting information. Keeping everyone on task, and making sure progress was communicated, so they stayed safe, which was his priority.
He walked over to his truck and typed an update in the computer.
Across the way, a volunteer handed out blankets to the members of the Jacob family. One of the boys was running with his like a Superman cape, oblivious to the danger or that their home was going up in smoke around him.
Another volunteer carried the creature-comfort box filled with the handiwork of the seniors: hand-crocheted bears, bunnies, dinosaurs, and even firefighter dolls with the Bull Mountain Boys badge stitched to the hats, which always put a smile on the kids’ faces. Doris stooped down, although it wasn’t necessary. She was barely five feet tall herself, but she got right down at their level with the basket of assorted crocheted toys. The kids seemed to calm down.
Each of the Jacob children was bent over picking out a soothing something to cling to. Doris tucked a small one in the arms of the youngest, whom Diane had on her hip. His tiny chubby arm flapped in the air, and then the toy went straight into his mouth. A little yarn never hurt anyone. Least of her worries.
Back at the fire station, each of them would get a box that the women’s auxiliary put together for this type of emergency. Essentials, like water bottles, electrolyte packets, minor first aid items, snacks, wet wipes, toothbrushes, and some things that were specific to men, women, or children. They had a whole shelving unit of them. Blue boxes for the men, pink for the women, and polka dots on the kids’ boxes.
He watched Doris and her team escort the family, wrapped in blankets to fight the cold, to the van in which they’d transport them to the fire station, to stay until they determined what the next steps needed to be. Shelter was a certainty already. This house wouldn’t be habitable anytime soon, if ever.
Thank God for an angel like Doris to come out of retirement to be a part of his team. She’d been married to a firefighter for forty years, so she knew the ins and outs from real-life experience. Having been a teacher in the community, she had the people skills and know-how to organize and act quickly. Plus, she knew everyone in town.
Tucker’s radio was active with standard updates and check-ins. He didn’t allow idle chatter on the airwaves during an emergency. Scanning the area, he noted that the number of yellow helmets, indicating rookie members or those on probation, were appropriately distributed among the black helmets, worn by more experienced team members. Safety came with experience that you couldn’t teach in a classroom.
Then he heard the message he’d been dreading.
“Wind shift, we’ve got fire on the east side of the structure in the woods, about forty feet.”
It wasn’t unusual. And in the winter, when the air was drier, the trees and fallen debris made like kindling. It was almost expected, but he’d hoped for the best tonight.
“Bravo team, set up for water from the pond. We need a ground team on the east side of the structure.”
A second tanker truck, from Dobyns, had just arrived. “Dobyns, unit twelve, pull to the front. You’re on the forest fire with Bravo.”
“Ten-four.”
The diesel engine rumbled up the street, and the Dobyns firefighters piled out. Bravo team captain was already on it.
Keep these men safe.
A gust of cold wind kicked up, and sleet pelleted his helmet.